This was a project I did basically during the pandemic. I started writing a poem a day. Once ‘real life’ started again it got harder to write everyday, which is interesting.
A Pete the Frog Story
Do you remember Pete the Frog?
He lives out back, under that log?
I have a quick story to tell —
how Pete put me under his spell.
Oops, did I forget to mention?
Pete is a magical frog.
Now I have your full attention!
One day I was out in the back
thinking about having a snack.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted —
felt like crunch was what I hunted.
Pete saw me making up my mind.
He croaked out loud “Eat what you find!”
“In fact there is a worm right there.
If you pull soft it will not tear.”
And even though I was surprised,
I leaned right down and scrunched my eyes,
I pulled that worm out of the ground
and showed old Pete what I had found!
He quickly used his tongue to grab
the little worm that I had nabbed.
So, Pete the Frog, he got a snack!
I stood there like a poor sad sack!
Pete then released me from his grip.
I walked inside and had some chips!
Sally Grundy
Sally Grundy
was a slug
slowest slug
there ever was
she would creep
just plod along
one short foot
took all day long
slug are slow
this we know
Sally was
the slowest though
Wizzelly and The Snow Day
It snowed hard all night long and when they all woke up,
the message from the school came through —
“Go ahead, have another cup.”
“We won’t be having school today. The roads are far too bad.”
While mom and dad, they groaned a bit,
Wizzelly was way beyond glad.
To say he was elated is still to understate.
He was the most excited kid!
To have no school — beyond great!
He knew what he would do for the entire day.
He would be outside with friends
and play and play and play.
He ate some oatmeal quick. His mom said “You have to.”
He dressed in record time
and out the door he flew.
Bundled as he was, he lumbered down the street.
The snow was all around, he thought,
“Man, the whole world looks so neat!”
He was reaching the corner when here came Walt and Will —
Wizzelly’s best good friends.
They set to planning out their thrills.
First, it was a snow fort built in Walter’s yard.
Then it was a snowman
imagined as castle guard.
As the boys were adding a stick that was a sword,
A new boy named Henry
came walking toward.
They all knew him already, he lived three streets away.
Henry asked if he could play with them
and the boys said “Sure, ok.”
It worked out in their favor. It was time for snowball fights.
The teams would be even now —
two on two was perfectly right.
Will and Walt joined together, leaving Henry and our Wizz.
They moved a small distance apart
and began the analysis.
How many balls to make? How big and how hard packed?
The planning of the thing
was as fun as the attack.
They finally started moving, Wizzelly watched Henry’s making.
Saw him shove a rock inside!
Wizzelly’s stomach started quaking.
He didn’t know what to do but those rocks seemed really bad.
Right away he heard the voices
of his mom and of his dad.
“If you are around something that seems not a-ok,
you should either leave the scene
or find some words to say.”
“What are you doing? You put a rock inside.”
Henry looked up at Wizz and flashed a grin,
“It makes them really glide!”
“But someone might get hurt!” “Don’t be such a baby.
I thought we wanted to win this fight!”
Wizz weakly answered “....maybe....”
“...but not by hurting someone. I’m out, I will not play.”
With that he spun around
and began to walk away.
Will and Walt they yelled, “Hey Wizz, where are you going?”
He didn’t quite know what to say...
he shrugged, “I don’t feel like throwing.”
But then he thought about it and joined them down the street.
“Henry’s putting rocks inside.
That’s wrong and is a cheat.”
Will and Walt shook their heads, agreeing with their friend.
“Guess the fight is over,
time for it to end.”
The three boys walked together leaving Henry all alone.
In one hand he held a snowball,
in the other a small stone.
You might think he would throw it at the boys who walked away.
But instead he dropped everything
and ran up to them to say,
“Hey guys, sorry, I was joking. I won’t use the rocks.
Let’s get back to playing,
building forts with big snow blocks!”
Will and Walt weren’t sure, they both looked down at their feet.
But Wizz said “Sure, just no more rocks.”
And they got to building forts — real neat!
As they were building, Wizzelly thought inside his mind,
“It was good to do the right thing,
and I’m glad I was still kind.”
They had an epic battle, but eventually moms called from the flanks.
As they started towards their homes,
Henry looked at Wizzelly and said “Thanks.”
Wizzelly had learned some lessons about how to be and how to play.
Now he knew he had the courage
to say what he needed to say.
Lazy Louise
Lazy Louise rolled over
when she heard her alarm
but instead of waking up
she reached with her left arm
hit the little snooze button
to give herself more time
nine more precious minutes
until the next round of chimes
to Louise there was no rush
no hurry to wake up
all she had to do later
was put some coffee in her cup
Louise did not schedule
things into her day
content to let stuff happen
happy to let time unravel away
nine minutes turned to eighteen
and then to twenty-seven
pretty soon Louise was sleeping
until almost eleven
now the clock strikes twelve
and now it’s almost three
now it’s getting dark
bedtime soon to be
poor old Lazy Louise
spent the whole day in bed
hitting that little snooze button
a pillow under her head
but poor old Lazy Louise
doesn’t seem to mind
the laziest kind of person
you will ever find
Grumbles
Do you have Grumbles in your town?
Where I live they are all around.
At the house and the playground,
you don’t see them but they make sounds.
You find them at the store or on the bus,
where folks gather to discuss.
A Grumble might like to moan,
or mumble in a lowish tone.
Some Grumbles are louder sorts,
you can hear them gather at team sports.
Some Grumbles, they might sigh,
or whine and bellow and seem to cry.
Grumbles are a part of life,
they make their noise but cause little strife.
If you meet a Grumble in your day,
he will want to have his say,
but once done, he will go away.
Where is Our Bedtime Story?
Where is our friend the fox?
Is she hiding in a box?
Is she hiding in a tree?
Where is she? I can not see.
Where is our friend the rabbit?
He has a peculiar habit
of hopping away. He never does stay.
Where does he go? I really can’t say.
Where is our friend the squirrel?
Around and around she does whirl.
Up the tree and then back down.
She seems to be all over town!
Where is our friend the skunk?
Into which hole has he slunk?
Let’s leave him alone, he is at home,
last time we saw him he stunk!
Where are you my friend?
We are here reading, but now is the end.
Lay down your head and snuggle in bed.
Our bedtime story, it has been read.
A Dragon Who Wears a Wig
Here’s a little short story
about a dragon who wears a wig.
He lives in the north of Romania
and his name is Abelzig.
As a young little dragon
he had a cute little orange head of curls.
For this particular type of dragon
hair is normal for both the boys and the girls.
One day Abelzig was playing
and accidentally set fire to a tree.
It is normal for dragons to play this way
and believe me, it is really quite something to see.
For reasons that are not truly clear at all,
he tried to blow the fire out.
You can only imagine that for a dragon
this is not a very smart route.
The fire got ever larger,
all around it danced and flashed.
An ember flew down onto Abelzig’s head.
In one quick instant, those curls turned to ash.
Of course now he looked different.
He was the only one with a bald head.
And yes, the others did tease him,
but that was not the thing that brought dread.
These mountains in Romania
are unusually bitterly cold.
The dragons have hair on their heads
so inside their heat they can hold.
But now Abelzig had none.
This was really a fairly large problem.
With no heat there is no fire
and then he would be more like a goblin.
All the dragons conferred together,
How to keep Abelzig’s head warm?
In those dragons’ heads now
an idea begins to take form.
In this part of the mountains
also lives a band of old gypsies.
One night a long time ago
a gypsy man was wandering around, quite tipsy.
He encountered one of the dragons
and he said some quite stupid things.
The dragon was going to burn him up
but just then his wife into the picture, she springs.
She was a wise old gypsy
and understood quite well
that dragons can be reasoned with
and so she began to weave her spell.
“This old man is worthless,
a silly one, as you have seen.
There is no reason to waste your breath.
Save it for something more mean.”
“But I understand a trade must be made
and here is my offer to you.
I believe there will come a time
when you won’t know what to do.”
“When that time is upon you,
you can call on me in my hut.
I will solve the problem for you,
there will be no ifs, ands, or buts.”
And so those dragons remembered
the old gypsy’s agreed upon trade
and three, along with Abelzig,
made their way to her hut in the glade.
The old gypsy woman was out gathering wood
and looked up to see
a bald headed dragon upon her
and right away she knew this was the fee.
She told those dragons to wait
and she scuttled inside to begin.
Somehow she knew just what to do
we have to assume somehow fate has stepped in.
She had bundles of fur and wool.
She worked at binding it all with thread.
When she was done she had made a wig,
a wig sized exactly to cover a dragon’s head.
She came and handed the wig over,
it was really quite tidy and neat.
Abelzig put it on his head
and right away he began to build heat.
It is something rather funny
for you to consider here, as we close:
why not just make Abelzig a hat?
Not nearly as fun I suppose.
marigold (part 6)
Walking in the wind was one of Marigold’s favorite things and this morning it was very windy! It was still quite early but she was out, doing her morning exploration, she called it her walkabout.
She would survey the flowers, the trees and shrubs. Looking for changes both below and above. She walked towards the stump, yes, the now famous stump. As she got closer her heart started to thump…
Another pencil - it was just sitting right there! Marigold was stunned, she was locked in a stare. Her mind was racing, her thoughts were alive…
How did this happen again? What is going on? How can we figure this out? Where could a pencil just come from? Is this some kind of trick? What will we do now? What is going on?
Just then Cody skittered along, when he saw Marigold’s face he worried something was wrong.
“Marigold, what happened?” Cody let out a combination squeak and scream.
Marigold pointed to the pencil and the words, out they streamed, “Another pencil, there like before. The mystery is deeper, I have to think more.” With that Marigold plopped herself down, right on the leaf covered dirty hard ground.
Cody decided to leave her alone. He would go find the other Detective Club members and share what was known.
Marigold sat there, trying to think. She sat and she stared, not even a wink. As she was trying to puzzle it out, she was startled indeed by a friendly small shout.
“Hey, you there! Can I ask you a question. I may have left my pencil here after my last drawing session. Have you seen it?”
Marigold’s eyes grew as big as saucers and she whipped around to see a teenage boy standing there. He was carrying a big drawing pad.
In an instance she knew, the mystery was solved! This boy left his pencils on the big log while he was drawing the view she had seen. So simple, so perfect, so truly delightful!
She bounded up and grabbed the pencil from its perch, “Is this it? The one you left. Can you now stop your search?”
“Oh, and by the way,” she rummaged through her coat pocket and produced yesterday’s appearing pencil, “did you leave this one yesterday?!”
“Yes yes, those are my pencils. My favorites for drawing in fact. Thank you so much for finding them. I must have just set them down and forgotten.”
He reached out his hand, “Hi, I’m Peter. And thank you again.”
Marigold reached out and shook his hand, she felt like a real adult, “I’m Marigold. I’m the head of the local Detectives Club and we are so glad to have this case solved.”
Peter chuckled.
Just then Marigold noticed that Cody had returned with the rest of the club. “Oh, let me introduce to everyone! This is Bernice, and Reginald, and Mildred and Mattie, and Stan, and of course here’s Cody.”
Peter thought he heard something that sounded like a squeaky scream coming from the little mice, and, wait a minute… were their lips moving? And then he thought he heard a sound like a owl’s hoot but maybe a word as well. He was truly perplexed. Of course, the entire Detectives Club was excited and they were all talking at once. But Peter was probably a little bit too old now to really understand anyways. It takes a certain kind of person to keep their ears open to really hearing.
Instead, he thanked Marigold again, glanced around at the animals, nodded his head, and was gone.
Marigold declared “Time to celebrate our first case solved by the Members of the Detectives Club! Good work all! Hip hip hooray!!”
Everyone was happy, except maybe Stan. What do you think he was doing? Of course, he was taking a nappy.
marigold (part 5)
I will tell you a story now of the club members exploring the place where the pencil was found. Well, not Stan, he is snoring.
The ground was covered in leaves and the wind had been blowing. If there had been footprints there was no way of knowing.
The club members searched for clues each in their own way. None of them knew what to do, that’s for sure, but it was still a very exciting day!
Mildred and Mattie scurried low to the ground plenty of effort but nothing was found.
Bernice flew to the top of a very tall tree she scanned from above, but there was nothing to see.
Reginald he stalked from around the edges, rooting in holes and under some hedges.
Marigold and Cody stayed close to each other. Cody was like a little squirrel brother. But they found nothing that looked like a clue. Marigold wasn’t sure what really to do.
She plopped down on the big stump, put her chin on her hands, wondered aloud and started to slump.
“Cody, what are we doing to do. Without any clues I can’t see how we can solve this little mystery! Where did this pencil come from. This is a really big conundrum.”
Cody looked at Marigold with his almond shaped eyes and said, “I know, this is a real surprise. I thought we were the best detectives around. But there is no clue to be found!”
As they were sitting there Marigold noticed something. Something she hadn’t seen before. The view down the valley from on top of the stump, it was a view someone might come here for. But that little fact, it passed through her mind…for nothing interesting about it did she find.
And so … our detectives are feeling quite low and the rest of the day moves on quite slow. Let’s leave them now to go their own way but tomorrow will be a quite surprising day!
marigold (part 4)
I will tell you a story now
of that same Detectives’ Club meeting
the last of the members finally arrived
and here was the sound of their greeting.
Mildred and Mattie were fighting
as sisters sometimes do
“squeak squeak squeak” they both cried loudly,
“I am mad at you!”
Reginald was a regal looking skunk
he was sitting quietly
wondering why he was summoned
his tail high in the air, waving sprightly.
Stan was a slightly surly
fairly round racoon
he could be trusted to take a nap
every afternoon.
He looked as if he might
fall asleep right now
but Marigold starting speaking
and got his attention somehow.
“Thank you all for coming
to our first official meeting.
The Detectives’ Club has our first case!
My heart is really beating!”
“I want to tell you all what I know so far.
Please everyone listen closely.
I only know very little really
just what I found mostly.”
“I was walking around this morning
and noticed something odd
there was this red pencil sitting
just all alone on a big log.”
(At this point Marigold held up the pencil.
She wasn’t touching it with her fingers,
she was using two leaves as little makeshift gloves…
you know, she didn’t want to disturb any fingerprints!)
“I looked around and saw nothing more
and I saw no real clues.
But maybe I missed something…
explore the scene of the crime, that is what we should do!”
At the mention of the words clue and crime
the mood in the Detectives’ Club Clubhouse
changed and the excitement was like just before opening birthday presents…
Mildred and Mattie were tittering and twittering and their tails were quivering!
Bernice’s eyes seemed to grow to twice their normal size!
Cody looked like he might jump right out of his skin.
I don’t think a squirrel ever looked so excited!
(Well, maybe when finding a long buried nut.)
Reginald’s tail looked taller and more bushy than ever.
His face may not have changed, but his tail told the tale.
Stan, well, he mostly still looked surly and a little tired,
but if you looked very closely, you would have seen his nose
and whiskers were twitching pretty wildly!
“I think that right now we should
head back there and see.
I will lead us all
to the place under the tree
where I found the pencil
and we can look for clues
but don’t disturb anything
whatever you do!”
And so the chase begins,
the club is is on the case.
To see them all earnest now
would put a smile on any face.
Let’s leave our friends
to make this walk alone
we will join them once again
when they enter the clue finding zone!
marigold (part 3)
I will tell you a story now
of later that very same day.
The Detectives’ Club had gathered
in their own unique way.
The clubhouse is more of makeshift
tent made of sticks and a tarp.
It sits under some willow trees
and the ground under has nothing sharp.
In the middle of the clubhouse
made of a giant old piece of tree
is a wobbly table
and around it do sit three.
Here we have Marigold
anxious to get started.
And Bernice is here, feathers fluffed
ready to be very smart.
Also here is Cody, a cute little squirrel
and Marigold’s best good friend.
Cody has a wild imagination
he can always pretend.
In fact we hear him now…
offering ideas
for how the pencil got here
they call this his idea diarrhea. (YUCK!)
"Well, it could have been a construction worker making plans
or wait, there is no construction planned.
Or maybe there was a school teacher who brought her class here,
but wait – wouldn’t we have seen them?
I bet it was dropped from a survey helicopter
or maybe it was a pencil delivering drone who dropped it by mistake!
Is there such a thing as pencil delivering drones?
Maybe late at night, when we are all sleeping, pencils come to life!
Maybe there is a whole world of pencils and pens and paper that are alive
and we just haven’t met them yet - oh my, that is an exciting idea!
I know! It was a ninja who stopped here on her way to a great adventure
and she was marking her map! Yes that has to be it!
Or wait - I’m sure this is it!! There must be a pencil salesman who is here
in our town and he was taking a shortcut and one of the pencils dropped from
his case! Yes yes, that has to be it!
Marigold, I think I solved it !!!"
"Oh Cody, I love you. And maybe you are right.
but we have to find some clues,
make your ideas airtight!"
Bernice looks quite annoyed,
but kindly says, in her owl-ey voice,
"hooowoo Cody, woowhere doo yoouu
get yyooouuur ideas? Toooooo many choooiicces!"
Maybe Cody is right
and he has solved the mystery.
But we won’t know until later
because for now, this story is history.
(Please close the book now,
you can come back later.
Also, I’m sorry Owl Speak is hard to read
but I’m sure you can manage if you try.)
marigold (part 2)
I will tell you a story now
of a bright Tuesday morning
when Marigold gathered the Detectives’ Club
without really much warning.
She had found a pencil
sitting on a stump
back in the back of the gardens
where there is mostly only leaf lumps.
"How does a pencil get here?
It can’t just come from the sky.
We have to investigate quickly.
We have to figure out why?"
Just as she was hatching her plan
along came Mildred and Mattie.
They were young little mouse twins -
Mildred was kind; Mattie could be bratty.
“Good Morning Marigold,” squeaked little Mildred.
“We are out exploring and how are you?”
Marigold knelt right down and spoke direct to both,
“I’m so glad you are here, we have so much to do!”
"I found this mysterious pencil, just lying right over there!
How did it get here? I see no real clues.
We have our first real mystery, we have to gather the club!!
Everyone is welcome, even if they haven’t paid dues!"
Mattie was very excited, her tail was practically quivering!
“Marigold, I will run and get Reginald. Mildred, you can get Stan.
Oh my this is so so exciting!!
Is this a very good plan?"
"Yes, it is perfect Mattie. That leaves Bernice and Cody.
I will go and find them now, I hope neither are out.
Just gather at the clubhouse and wait
and if you need anything just shout."
The twins scampered away and
Marigold quickly turned. Now making her way
towards the large grove of oak trees
where Bernice the Owl usually stayed.
For now perhaps we set this down
and leave a little tension
oh but one thing, I did forget to mention…
The title of this story is:
The Case of the Appearing Pencil
marigold (part 1)
Between two smallish hills
tucked between two big mountains
lived a young girl named Marigold
her house, it had a fountain.
The neighbors called it Flower House
because it was almost covered
by plants and flowers everywhere
paradise for bees when discovered.
Marigold was very bright
a clever sharp young girl
what most people didn’t know
her best friend was a squirrel.
Marigold had a ton of friends
who lived right in the gardens
and if you think this makes her silly
I would say, I beg your pardon.
For a clever young girl to make friends
with what lives around her
this may sound preposterous
but your judgment, do defer.
You may come to love them all
these creatures great and small
I will tell you a story now
the does describe them all.
(A note to you dear reader: A new world we enter today. I’ve met Marigold before, in my imagination. The time has come for her to come out to play.)
a giant cake for an ogre
I want a giant cake !
Tom the Ogre screamed and yelled
he was know as the biggest brat
in this family of ogres who smelled
they lived under the bridge
between two smallish hills
they mostly kept to themselves
but today Tom’s voice rang shrill
people in the near villages
they could hear this wild sound
what in the world could make that noise?
was it coming from under the ground?
is there a storm coming?
is it a bird in the sky?
Tom just kept on yelling
and you may be asking why?
it was Tom’s birthday
he was turning six
and his mom had made him a special treat
of mud and dirt and sticks
(did you think ogre’s ate cake like ours?
well now, that would be silly
they don’t eat like us at all
although, I have to say they do like chili )
Tom was a spoiled bratty tot
he thought his cake was too small
even though you would be surprised
it was already 3 feet tall
Tom went on yelling
for a really really long time
his ogre family ignored him though
they stuffed their ears with slime
something funny happened now
it actually started to storm
and so the villagers they assumed
Tom’s screaming was really the norm
there are some folks who, to this day
will say this when it thunders
the ogres must be having a party
who wants more cake now I wonder?